


What The Ravagers Taught

by MythicalCypressWater



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Gen, OOC, Ravagers - Freeform, Sucky writing, i don't know how to tag, probably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:43:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21579952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MythicalCypressWater/pseuds/MythicalCypressWater
Summary: Growing up as a Ravager forced strange habits on a person. Peter, admittedly, never quite grew out of them.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 35





	What The Ravagers Taught

**Author's Note:**

> For the record, I had no idea what I was doing when I started writing this. I just knew that I promised someone I would post a story and I keep my promises. ;)
> 
> Please don't come after me as a mob if this sucks.

Being the only Terran in space, and having the Ravagers as his foster family, created interesting situations for Peter Quill. Or StarLord. Whichever the crowd around him preferred.

Except now Peter was riding the goody-two-shoes roller coaster. It required a lot of boredom, headaches, tough decisions, and so much self control that Peter felt like a little cluster of pomegranete seeds ready to burst. He had a team now. A family. No more solo flying for him. Nope. Now the little room supplied by his beloved Milano was filled even more. So much in fact, that privacy was an illusion. A fallacy. 

Peter would never admit it, but he preferred it this way. He finally had a noise, a presence, besides his lovely music. Not that he quit blasting his awesome soundtrack anyway. Even when his team complained that it was "too early for such a ruckus" or "too late for so much noise".

But even with Peter's glorified job and aggravating but enjoyable team, he was still a Ravager. Still raised as one.

Some habits just appeared. What's that old saying? Old habits die hard? 

For example, he hid injuries.

And Lord have mercy did Gamora yell about that. So yes, occasionally Peter _forgot _to mention that he was stabbed or cut, or hit with a blaster's ray. And occasionally, the wounds would get infected. And maybe the team went into a frantic frenzy and had to halt all missions in order to care for Peter. But those were coincidences, right? Ocaasions that barely occurred, right?

He also had this problem of surveying every room he walked into. Peter knew the rest of his team did it too. In fact, everyone examined the room they walked into.

Peter just did it... differently than most. He made note of every exit, figured out which was closest to him and which would be easiest to escape from, mapped out any objects that could be used as a distraction for his attacker/chaser, and had a full plan for which route he would take and how he would blend in.

After a rough job with some rough opponents, the Guardians of the Galaxy stopped at a local bar to have some drinks. 

“Peter?” Gamora’s concern was soft but still gleamed brightly in her chocolate eyes. She caught him whilst he zoned out in his routine room examination.

"Hmm? Oh, sorry. Let's just get some drinks." Peter responded.

"Best thing I heard all night." Rocket snarked, rolling his eyes and sauntering up to the counter.

"I also agree that seems appropriate." Drax said evenly.

Peter shrugged and glanced at Gamora who just raised her eyebrows. "Come along, Groot. Let's join the others." She said gently, scooping up Groot from where he had been deposited on a nearby, circular table. 

* * *

A few drinks and a lot of laughs later, Peter felt a rough hand clasp his shoulder. Before anyone could say anything, including his offender, he gripped the hand harshly, spun around and flipped the man over his shoulder. A blaster immediately went to the man's throat. 

An overwhelming silence posthaste over the pub. "Peter!" Gamora admonished with a hint of shock in her beautiful voice.

Peter whipped around his head to see his team looking at him in some form of shocked disbelief. However, he couldn't dwell on them, he had some questioning to do.

"Quill!" The male gasped out quite joyously from where the blaster dug into his throat. Peter furrowed his eyebrows at him before studying his face more studiously. 

"Dengar?" He exclaimed, removing his weapon and offering a hand to pull the man up.

Dengar laughed boomingly. He was an astonishingly large man with a reddish-brown beard and human looking skin. Chatter hesitantly started chirping through the bar again.

"Peter?" Gamora said. "Who is this?"

"And why the hell did you attack him?" Rocket added, draining the last of his beverage.

"I am Groot!" Groot expressed.

"Oh, um, Dengar here is an old Ravager buddy." Peter answered sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. He really didn't want to explain this situation. He also didn't want to explain why he flipped the man, so he just avoided the question.

"Alright, cool. Little reunion here. Lots of fun and giggles. Haha. Doesn't explain why you went all," Rocket paused, gesturing to Peter's entire body and hand which still held his blaster. "_that_ on the guy." 

"Well, I didn't know who he was and he touched me. Okay that sounded weird, but you know what I meant." Peter said a bit obviously. Didn't they also go into a defensive stance if something like that happened to them? The Ravagers, especially Yondu, drilled into his head that everyone was a threat. 

"I do not understand how initiated touch warrants someone to be attacked." Drax said, confused.

"Aw, that's just somethin' we taught him. Seems like somethin' stuck, huh, boy?" Dengar smiled, ruffling Peter's hair. 

Red painted his cheeks, swooping in like a hunting osprey. Peter shoved the xandarian's hand away and smoothed down his locks. "I'm not twelve." He hissed.

Peter's teammates laughed at his embarrassment. "So uh, what're you doing down here?" Peter asked, clearing his throat and directing the attention away from him.

"I'm a retired man, Petey. Gotta make a livin' somehow, ain't I? Been workin' down at the repair shop." Dengar responded.

"How I escaped you people with an intact grammar is a miracle." Peter sighed quietly. The xandarian apparently heard him and grasped his shoulder again. 

"Aw, c'mon now, boy. We were a great influence on ya."

"Oh, yes. I could tell by the way he almost just killed you." Rocket said sarcastically. Gamora sent a small, but meaningful glare to him while Drax laughed as loud and boomingly as ever.

"I am Groot." Groot added.

"Well, he's alive, ain't he? Tha's what matters when it comes down to it. Aye, boy, you remember the Ravager code?"

"Steal everything from everybody." Peter responded out of reflex. His team sent him weird looks. Confused, reprimanding, he didn't know.

"But," He quickly rushed in. "I'm good now so I don't do that anymore." Peter had kept eye contact with Gamora the entire time and when his sentence was finishing, it sounded more like a question. Gamora raised her eyebrows at him and nodded in an obvious reassurance. 

"Oh, well, boy, maybe that's a good thing. We didn't exactly raise you _right, _but we damn sure tried." Dengar said.

* * *

A lot of alcohol, rude remarks from Rocket, questions from Gamora, and blunt statements from Drax later, the Guardians of the Galaxy were heading back to the Milano. The walk there was silent, but once they were inside, Rocket immediately piped up.

"Those a-holes really taught you that shit?" 

"Yes, I also don't understand how that was proper childcare." Drax said, grabbing a substance in a bowl from the fridge.

"At least it explains why you hide food sometimes, and never waste any of it, sleep with your blasters, observe rooms so meticulously, and smell anything you're served before consuming it." Gamora commented.

"Wait, you noticed that?" Peter winced. Yeah, Gamora was an incredibly observant assassin, but he was hoping she never saw him smell his drinks or meals. It was just a precaution against poison. It was impossible to know who existed in the entire galaxy that wanted to kill him. 

"Yes, Peter. You forget my past profession." 

"Still a bunch of a-holes." Rocket mumbled, fiddling with a gun.

"Yeah, the Ravagers are assholes, but what they taught me has kept me alive all these years."

**Author's Note:**

> That was terrible. Wow.


End file.
